A Shift of Fate
by Settiai
Summary: Gideon Hawke was a healer. He'd already lost his home. He damned well wasn't going to lose his little sister as well, not if there was anything he could do to stop it.


Gideon Hawke was a healer.

It had been a source of grief for him as a child. Bethany's magic had been explosive, the elements themselves coming to her fingertips when she called. Flames and ice and lightning, not a hint of subtlety in any of it. Poor Carver still had several scars stemming from the day they had first realized she was a mage.

But Gideon had been a different story from the very beginning.

Looking back, he couldn't remember a time when he hadn't had magic. There had been a steady stream of farm animals and the occasional wildlife with small injuries that had seemed stronger after he'd spent time petting them. He hadn't realized for years that it had been anything more than a gift for calming them. Bethany's magic was bold and obvious, and his father's had been chaotic and noisy. It hadn't crossed his mind that something so quiet and subtle could be another facet of magic.

Not until—

But, no, he didn't want to think about that day. At least, not right then.

The important thing was that it had taken quite a while before any of them had realized that Bethany wasn't the only Hawke sibling who was a mage. Long enough for him to start training with dual blades, learning the art of non-magical fighting alongside Carver.

Sometimes he thought that Carver had never quite forgiven him for having magic after all.

He'd never truly appreciated his magical abilities growing up, watching enviously as Father and Bethany wove offensive spells effortlessly that were all but beyond his grasp. He would have gladly done almost anything, short of making a deal with a demon, to be able to throw a fireball or shoot someone with a bolt of lightning.

As it was, healing and defensive spells were his strength. All but the most basic offensive ones were impossible for him. That's why he'd kept training with blades, even after they'd realized he had magic. To give him some way of fighting back, when he needed it.

It had always seemed unfair. But as he knelt on the ground beside his little sister, pouring everything he had into her and desperately clinging to the tiny spark of life that still flickered inside her, Gideon had never been more thankful of the direction his abilities had taken. For the first time he could remember, he wouldn't have traded them for anything.

"Don't do this to us," Gideon muttered, barely even conscious of the battle going on just a few feet away as Carver and the templar's wife tried to take down the ogre that was the cause of all this. "Damn it, Bethany, don't you dare die on me."

That little spark of life flickered, almost disappearing for a moment, and Gideon just… pushed, putting all of his will behind it. There wasn't any conscious thought behind it, merely desperation and determination and the knowledge that he couldn't, _couldn't_ , let his baby sister die there in the dirt. They'd already lost so much. They couldn't lose her too.

He couldn't lose her too.

Magic poured out of him and into her, his vision going grey for a moment or possibly a lifetime. There was a pounding in his head that he ignored, even as it threatened to split his skull in two. He could do this. He _could_. He was a healer, healing was the only thing that his magic was good for, and he knew that if he could just keep pushing for a bit longer then he _could save her_.

"Gideon!"

Someone yelled his name, but he couldn't tell who it was. A distant part of his brain thought that it might have been Father, but that wasn't right, because Father was three years gone. Could it be Carver? Maybe. It didn't matter. Not right now, while Bethany was dying, and he was the only thing standing between her and the Void, and—

Something hit him. Hard.

Gideon went sprawling, his magic cutting off abruptly as he was jerked away from Bethany. His vision was still grey, sparks of light flashing at the edges, and he felt drained in a way like he hadn't felt since Father had pushed his hands away just before closing his eyes for the last time. His breathing was coming out in harsh gasps, and it took a moment for reality to reassert itself.

There was a hand on his shoulder, the grip tight but reassuring, and there was a familiar voice murmuring in his ear even though he couldn't quite process the actual words. He could feel it helping, though, his breathing evening out and the dark, inky grey that had overwhelmed his vision slowly fading so that he could see colors again.

"—and then you had to go and be a complete _idiot_. What were you trying to do, get yourself killed? Because if it was, then you were doing a great job at it."

As his hearing slowly reasserted itself, it surprised Gideon just how comforting it was to hear Carver berating him. It probably shouldn't. His brother was calling him an idiot after all, and the frustration in his voice was clear as day. But, well, so was the slight shakiness. The tiny hitch in his breathing at the end of some of the words.

The way that Carver's grip on his shoulder hadn't loosened in the least bit.

"Gideon?"

Oh. _Oh_.

His vision was still a little grey around the edges, but he could see well enough to make out at least a little bit. He turned his head, just a little, in the direction that his name had just came from.

For a moment, his vision blurred at the unexpected movement. There was a blob of color in front of him, but he couldn't make out who or what it was. Then his eyes caught up with his body and started to clear, just a little, but enough. And the first thing he saw was Bethany, her face scarily pale and her mouth pulled tight in pain as she propped herself up on one arm.

But she was _alive_.

She stared at him for a moment, neither of them blinking. Then she sighed. "Carver's right," Bethany said matter-of-factly. "You're an idiot."

"You say that like it's something new," Gideon replied instantly, his sarcasm so much of a reflex that he didn't even have time to think before the words were out there. A little slurred, maybe, but out there.

Bethany's mouth twitched. Behind him, there was a choked sound that sounded almost like a sob, and he realized with some surprise that his head was resting in Mother's lap.

The grip on his shoulder tightened.

Gideon knew that they needed to move if they were going to survive. He was also well aware that neither he nor Bethany was in any state to make a run for it. But the others, they had a chance to escape, if they would just—

"It's too late," Aveline said quietly, somewhere above him.

The hand on his shoulder let go, and a moment later he heard the sound of a sword being drawn. He couldn't see them, but Gideon knew what he'd see if he did. Carver, Aveline, and the templar, Wesley, placing themselves between two injured mages and the darkspawn horde headed their way.

Gideon met Bethany's gaze.

The two of them stared at each other for a moment, a million and one words being shared without either of them having to say a thing. Then Bethany nodded, a sad look on her face.

He might have only bought her another few minutes of living, but he couldn't regret it. If they had to die, it would be together.

"Help me up," Gideon said softly.

"What?" Mother said. "Gideon, no, you're—"

"Mother, please," he said, cutting in, "help me up."

The world swam around him as Mother helped him struggle to his feet, but the blades in his hands were steady as he carefully pulled them out. A moment or two later, Bethany was standing beside him, even though she was leaning heavily on Mother in order to stay upright.

In front of them, Carver muttered what sounded like a verse from the Chant of Light. Gideon hadn't known that his younger brother even knew what the Chant of Life _was._ But, then again, Carver had been at Ostagar. From the little he'd told them about the battle, if anything would make someone want to turn toward the Maker, that would have.

"Maker help us," Bethany whispered.

Gideon tightened his grip on his daggers, instinctively reaching for his mana to put up a barrier around them even though he _knew_ he didn't have enough energy left to pull it off. He had to at least make the attempt, even if nothing would come out of it. Even if nothing _could_ come out of it, considering he was completely drained.

And that's when the dragon appeared.


End file.
